


Like a Little Death: Five Times Jeff Found Annie on a Table, One Time He Imagined He Did & What Happened After

by La_Pacifidora



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Pacifidora/pseuds/La_Pacifidora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was only one course of action, barring the sudden appearance of Inspector Spacetime and the ability to go back in time and nip this whole situation in the bud, probably by quieting Annie at a strategic moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Little Death: Five Times Jeff Found Annie on a Table, One Time He Imagined He Did & What Happened After

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [my personal fic journal in October 2011](http://lap-fic.livejournal.com/3555.html).
> 
> Spoilers: Spoilers for 3.02
> 
> Rating/ Warnings: T, for Tablelicious, and S, for School Girl (‘R’ for Really? I need to spell it out for you?)
> 
> Disclaimers: Not mine. Although I think Dan Harmon knows this friend of mine and based Troy on her… Lyrics are from the following: [20 Year Old Lover](http://youtu.be/QXbaDqX5wlI), Juliette & The Licks; [Pumpkin Soup](http://youtu.be/5lXDuTM127o), Kate Nash; [You’re So Damn Hot](http://youtu.be/1UnPaQaw2fQ), OK Go; [Dirty Little Secret](http://youtu.be/UAJxOU13SKk), The All-American Rejects; [Ever Fallen In Love](http://youtu.be/0G0AF0g08aU), The Buzzcocks; [And You Give](http://youtu.be/0nXG2bf3pbs), Matthew Barber; and [Laid](http://youtu.be/kiQhf8M0MCk), James.
> 
> Author’s note: My mind is a twisted, weird place. You’re welcome to visit, but I strongly suggest sticking to the marked path and, please, don’t feed the animals. Also, I haven’t done a re-watch yet, so if the dialogue is off, do let me know.

_< i>Younger than the others/ It’s not right</i>_

***

“Annie! You’re acting like a school girl, and not in the hot way!”

Jeff never understood the meaning of the phrase ‘the silence rang in my ears’ until that moment. He watched dazedly as Annie jumped off the table and excused herself from the Model U.N.-off and fled from the scene. Belatedly, he realized the rest of the study group and the cafeteria was staring at him. (He didn’t even want to see how Professor…however-you-said-it – and really, why couldn’t they all have easy names, like ‘Professorson’ or ‘Duncan’? – was looking at him.)

He had to say something. (Preferably something less weird and objectifying toward Annie.) In fact, he briefly wondered if DARSITs were real, where he’d find one and whether his Lexus would have any sort of trade-in value.

“OK, that made me sound creepy.” Jeff held his hands up, though to fend of projectiles or to placate the crowd, he wasn’t sure. “But here’s the thing-” He stopped abruptly as he realized, for the first time since he’d been called into Ted’s office and questioned about his law degree, he had absolutely no defense.

There was only one course of action, barring the sudden appearance of Inspector Spacetime and the ability to go back in time and nip this whole situation in the bud, probably by quieting Annie at a strategic moment.

Jeff dropped his hands, willing the possible ways he could quiet Annie to the back of his mind for the time being, and spun on his heel, his next move clear.

Time to flee.

***

_< i>But I trip fast and then I lose/ And I hate looking like a fool</i>_

***

Of all the times for Pierce to grow a backbone, the middle of campus-wide lockdown in response to the arrival of a group of attractive but threatening strangers with unnatural strength and speed was probably not the best.

Jeff wasn’t completely sure, but he had a feeling the older man’s suggestion that they somehow lure the strangers to the gym, corral them there and burn it down was made seriously.

But Pierce’s sudden pyromaniac tendencies were not important at this particular moment.

While hiding behind an overturned vending machine with Shirley and Abed, they overheard the strangers discussing with which of the captured students they would start. Bile rose in Jeff’s throat as his mind, twisted by entire weekends of <i>Criminal Minds</i> and <i>Law & Order: SVU</i> marathons on cable, began to rapidly list what the strangers might mean by ‘start.’

“Oh no.” Shirley mouthed, her skin ashy beneath the glittery makeup of her fairy queen costume. (The terror in her eyes was made all the more pathetic by the ripped wing that hung askew from her back and the splintered plastic crown she still clutched.) She bit her lip as Abed and Jeff met her eyes.

“Annie.” Abed stated quietly, his tone betraying the emotions not present in his expression.

Jeff nodded, suppressing the urge to swallow. Annie had been snatched from his side, nearly from his own hands, as the group of students led by Pierce crept down the hall toward the gym. A squeak, cut off sharply, was the only sign of trouble, but when he turned to look, all he found was the cheap fairy wand tucked into his boot.

He’d wanted to search for her then, to track down these strangers and force them to give Annie back to hi- to <i> _them </i>_. Because she was hi- <i> _their </i>_ Annie.

But it wasn’t going to happen, and so the three of them were assigned look-out duty. Squaring his shoulders, Jeff rolled to his feet and pulled his mask down over his face, giving his friends a cursory nod as he skirted around the vending machine and headed down the hallway.

His soft-soled boots made no sound against the linoleum, and he found himself thankful for the first time that night that Annie convinced the entire study group to dress up as characters from ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ Even the donkey mask she’d given him when he arrived at the Halloween party that evening didn’t seem so awful now, as the dark colors helped hide him in the shadows.

Even in the quiet, Jeff wasn’t sure how he heard the noise coming from the classroom in the art wing, but that was where he found Annie, perched on the edge of a table.

“Annie.” Jeff wasn’t even sure if he was speaking, but her head snapped up at the sound, her fingers on her arm. He pulled off the mask and crossed the room as quickly as he could, weaving in between desks and filing cabinets.

“Hi.” Her smile was forced and her skin pale, even in the moonlight that slanted through the slats in the blinds. Jeff smiled back for a moment, standing motionless before he stepped forward, wrapping one arm around her shoulders as he pulled her toward him, the other arm laying atop her shoulder as his hand cupped the back of her head. He pressed his face into her hair and struggled to control his breathing.

When he finally pulled back, he took up her arm and examined the deep scratches. Looking around, he found a (mostly) clean rag on a nearby cart and pressed it to the wound.

"Thanks.” Annie whispered.

“No problem.” Jeff responded quietly, unable to look away from her face for long. “What happened?”

“They grabbed me.” Her voice hitched slightly and she took a deep breath. “I got away.” Her eyes slid away from his for a moment before she focused on him and gave a wry smile. “They didn’t seem to like that.”

“Tough luck.” Jeff swallowed. “What did they expect from my- our Annie?” He paused, unsure if she had caught his slip. His breath caught in his throat when she looked down, her hair falling forward around her cheeks.

“Jeff…”

"Yes…” He leaned toward her, tucking his chin so his face would be on a level with hers and letting his eyes shut.

“Did you hear that?” Annie’s question caught him off guard, and Jeff nearly banged their heads together as he straightened, tilting his head to one side, and listened for a minute.

“Yeah.” Jeff shook his head and held her arm as she slipped down from the table before leading her toward the air duct cover. Together, they pulled it free on one side and climbed in. As he closed the cover behind them and turned to follow Annie, reminding himself not to get distracted by staring at her ass, he swallowed a sigh.

 Time to flee.

***

_< i>I saw you slippin’ out the back door, baby/ Don’t even try and find a line, this time</i>_

***

“To Annie, on her 21st birthday.” Britta stood and raised her glass, prompting the others to follow suit, and faced the petite brunette sitting at the head of the table. “For every good thing you’ve ever wanted for any of us, we wish you twice that.” The blonde grinned at her friend. “Probably more than that, but we can’t all be saints like you.” She waited while the rest of the table chuckled. “To Annie!”

“To Annie!” The chorus was resounding and a careful observer would’ve noted the sheen in Annie’s eyes as she smiled and raised her glass to clink with those around her. As her friends sat, she raised her glass to Jeff for an imaginary toast, as she couldn’t reach across to where he sat at the other end of the table.

Jeff responded in kind and turned to answer the question Duncan put to him, keeping an eye on Abed to ensure the younger man didn’t steal all his fries.

A few hours later, most of the group had left the restaurant, which had emptied out while the bar still hummed with activity.

Returning to the private room they’d rented out for Annie’s party, Jeff leaned against the doorframe and found her still seated at the table, wrapping a piece of curling ribbon tightly around her finger. He cleared his throat and crossed to the table and pulled out the seat to her right, settling into it and resting one arm along the back of the next chair.

“Birthday blues?”

“Not exactly.” Annie pulled on the end of the ribbon, letting it spool off her finger and drop to the table. She poked at it for a moment before she met his eyes. “I guess I was worried about what turning 21 meant-”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know. Meaning I’m a real, full-fledged adult now?”

“I kind of doubt that.” Jeff drew the stack of birthday cards toward him and held up the one on top, which had a glittery Hello Kitty pirouetting. “Exhibit A.”

“Well.” Annie flushed and ducked her head. “That was from Dean Pelton. But, I mean, he also gave me a gift card to Office Max.”

“Don’t lie.” Jeff clucked his tongue. “You love it.” He shuffled through the pile of cards and held up another, with a black-and-white photo of two little girls on swings. “Exhibit B.”

“We can’t fault Britta.” Annie shrugged. “She still doesn’t have the whole ‘being friends with girls’ thing down, but she’s making an effort.”

“OK.” Jeff flipped through a few more cards, tugging one from the pile and holding it up to display the weird looking little critters in pink and neon green on the front. “Exhibit C.”

“That’s a licensed property.” Annie lifted her chin. “It’s not supposed to be specific to kids or adults.” She cringed when Jeff raised an eyebrow and flipped the card open, the sound of ‘Happy Birthday’ being yodeled issuing forth. “What else are we supposed to expect from Professor Whitman?” She shook her head. “But that’s not the point. I was worried that turning 21 would mean all these things would change. I mean, I had convinced myself that birthdays were dangerous.”

“That would explain why you refused to talk about it all for the last two weeks.”

“Yeah.” Annie leaned forward, resting her chin on her folded arms. “But, now, actually being 21, it feels like nothing’s changed.” She sighed and let her head roll to the side, her cheek pillowed on her elbow.

“Hey.” Jeff leaned forward, scooping up the stack off birthday cards and dumping them in a brightly colored gift bag. “Change doesn’t have to be big things. Sometimes it’s stuff that people don’t even say anything about.”

“I guess.” Annie closed her eyes and yawned.

“And with that, it’s time to take the birthday girl home.” Jeff stood and held out his hands to her, pulling her to her feet.

She swayed forward with the momentum, unsteady from exhaustion and the two Pink Panty Droppers the Dean and Pierce had ordered for her, bracing herself against his palms. She tilted her head up to look at him and slowly pulled her hands from his, slipping them past his arms to hover at his waist. Jeff tried to ignore the phantom touch.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Jeff shrugged. “Abed and I got Pierce into his car – Troy was going to drive him home. Professor Garrity was taking Britta home.” He stopped and shook his head. “He was driving her home. And Whitman and I got the Dean poured into a cab.”

“Not that.” Annie’s hands closed the last inch of space as they slid around his sides and she stepped into him, squeezing him as she lay her cheek against his shirt. “The whole ‘talking-me-out-of-my-crazy’ thing. You don’t nearly ever yell, anymore, when you do it, and you’ve nearly got talking to me like an adult down enough so it’s believable.”

Jeff sighed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, returning her squeeze as he rested his chin on her head.

“Well, you’re 21, now.” He chuckled and, if it sounded a tad hollow, neither one noticed. “Who knows: By the time you’re 30, maybe I’ll have it down pat.”

“You think we’ll still know each other in 10 years?”

“Of course.” Jeff answered quickly, tightening his hold on Annie for a brief moment before letting her go. She pulled back and smiled up at him softly.

“Good.” She turned to the table and gathered up several gift bags, which she handed to him, then picked up her purse, along with the remaining bags and boxes. She headed toward the door, holding it open as Jeff approached. “I think I’m going to enjoy seeing how you turn out, young man.” She adopted a lofty tone and grins at him.

At which point Jeff really (No, <i> _really </i>_ in the sense that it’s a physical impossibility, it’s something he couldn’t stop, it’s inevitable unless he dropped dead in the next 30 seconds.) had no choice but to stoop and kiss her cheek. He drew back and saw the shock and confusion building under the grin now frozen on her face. He forced himself to grin back and passed through the doorway, picking up his pace as he headed for the parking lot without waiting to see if she was following.

Time to flee.

***

_< i>I go around a time or two/ Just to waste my time with you</i>_

***

“Oh. My. God.”

“I know.”

“Oh. My. <i> _God </i>._”

“Right?”

“I just, I can’t believe it.”

“It doesn’t seem possible, does it?”

“No.”

“And to go around, all this time, not knowing that this was even possible.”

“I certainly had no idea. I didn’t think it was possible to be this surprised.”

“And to find out like- like <i> _this </i>_.”

“I know.” Annie turned to face her companion. “All this time, Vaughn was a cop – not just a cop, but an <i> _undercover </i>_ cop.”

“Oh my God.” Britta closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. “I made out. With a cop.” Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “It’s like all my rebel cred is just…<i> _poof </i>_. Gone.”

“And I thought I <i> _was </i>_ being a rebel because I usually go the guy who’s going to be a doctor or a teacher or a lawyer.” Annie shook her head and reflexively tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I was all, ‘Hey, I’m going to date Vaughn, even if he does smell like patchouli <i> _all </i>_ the time, because I’m modern and enlightened.’”

“He fooled us both.”

“Yep.”

“Damn him.”

“Yep.” Annie patted Britta’s hand and scooted closer to their study table. She looked around and leaned in toward the blonde. “Um. Considering we’ve both been interested in two of the same guys, um-” She paused, shaking her head. “No, forget it. Forget I said anything.”

“Jeff’s not an undercover cop or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Right.” Annie’s cheeks flushed and she leaned back as she fiddled with her pen, sliding the cap off a millimeter, then sliding it back into place with a tiny <i> _click </i>_. “No, I know that.” She shrugged.

“And, I mean, he’s weird, but all guys are weird, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Annie and Britta grinned at each other. “Yeah, I know.”

Jeff backed away from behind the door, thankful the blinds on this side of the room were drawn, and headed out to the quad to meet up with Troy and Abed, so he can enter with them. He nodded to himself: It was a strategic retreat, that’s all.

But he knows it’s not.

***

_< i>And if I start a commotion/ I run the risk of losing you, and that’s worse</i>_

***

The lights are turned down low in the cafeteria.

Hell, with the twinkle lights strung crazily overhead; a local garage band on stage, playing slightly rock-tinged versions of classic ballads; and the subtle decorations in navy and silver, the cafeteria didn’t even look like a cafeteria anymore. (Only the faint odor of deep-fried foods that clung to everything, even the walls, after 30-plus years disturbed the illusion.)

Leave it to Abed and Annie to plan a pitch-perfect 1940s-themed school dance.

Speaking of, Jeff saw Abed spin a petite blonde around on the dance floor before pulling her close. Though the expressions of neither one revealed anything, Jeff noticed the hand his friend has splayed in the small of the woman’s back and knew now was not the moment to congratulate his friend on a job well done.

Walking away from the refreshment table, Jeff scanned the crowd on the dance floor for Annie, then turned to look over the groups clustered around the tables lining the edge of the room.

But she wasn’t there. Jeff frowned and wound his way through the room, nodding to the people he knew (and shot a thumbs up to Neil, on whose shoulder Vicki was resting her head). When he reached the doors, he turned back and scanned the room again, but the petite brunette hadn’t materialized in the minute or so since he last looked.

He pushed through the doors and let them fall shut behind him, the sounds of the dance fading through the steel. A glance to the right showed only an empty, dimly lit hallway. A glance to the left revealed a brunette in dark red, the swath of the skirt dotted with startlingly white polka dots, seated at a card table draped in a navy cloth, tapping a permanent marker against a thick sheaf of paper.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Jeff set down a glass of punch, fished out a couple of cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket, and settled into the empty chair next to Annie. Her gaze snapped to his face, her eyes widening even as she reached behind her blindly for the shrug draped over the back of her chair. He put down his own glass of punch and reached out to help her, noting how she pulled away when their fingers brushed.

“Cold?” He held the shrug up, intending to help her into it.

“Uh. Yes.” She looked from him to the shrug, and he could see her settle some internal debate. She turned her back to him, slipping one arm through a sleeve and lifting up her hair as she slipped her other arm into the other sleeve. If his fingers lingered on the skin of her neck, just below the strap of her halter dress, and if her breath hitched in her throat in response, no one was there to notice. And they weren’t about to start talking honestly about their reactions to each other, not when they’ve been building obstacles between themselves with words practically since they met.

Annie turned back to face the table and busied herself with breaking a cookie into smaller pieces. (Really, what was it about Greendale and unusually large cookies?)

“What are you doing out here?”

“Someone has to watch the money box till the Dean comes to lock it away in his office.” Annie fidgeted and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “And Abed said he wanted to dance, so I said I’d spell him for a while.”

“So, everyone gets to enjoy your hard work, except you.”

“It’s not so bad.” Annie glanced at him from the corner of her eye and smiled wryly. “It’s quiet out here.” She gestured to the cookie. “Plus, I get personalized service.” She turned to look at him, resting her arm along the back of her folding chair. “And I get interesting conversation.”

“Really?” Jeff turned to face her, mimicking her pose and conscious of where her knee brushed his. “Me?”

“Actually, I meant me.” Annie widened her eyes dramatically and plastered a loopy grin on her face. “The voices in my head are fascinating.”

“Funny.” Jeff shook his head, watching as she glanced back at the table and raised a cookie fragment to her lips. He knew he was staring, but it’s quiet enough and he’s comfortable enough with where they are to not be bothered by it. He found himself fascinated watching her chew and swallow, and that’s why he saw it: A single, small grain of sugar, clinging to the edge of her bottom lip.

Without thinking, Jeff reached up and wiped it from Annie’s mouth with his thumb, flicking it off toward the floor. He felt her gaze on his face the same way he felt the disturbance of the air from her breath. Looking up from her mouth, the mixed confusion and unadulterated want in her eyes scattered the thoughts he was trying to put in order.

Jeff leaned forward and wrapped his hand around the back of Annie’s neck, pressing his mouth to hers, as his thumb brushed the short hairs at the nape of her neck.

It wasn’t a first kiss; Annie had the honor of initiating that one. And wasn’t an exploratory kiss – outside the Tranny Dance, leaning into each other and learning that a quick, darting touch of his tongue to the middle of her top lip will open her mouth and produce this strangely alluring hiccoughing noise in the back of her throat, which will, in turn, make him respond with a groan – taught him the particulars of angle and pressure and how long before they’d both be short of breath.

But was a decisive kiss: It unequivocally stated that the time for talking at cross purposes, for resorting to head pats and hugs, for walking away is past. If he was honest – which, usually, he wasn’t – and if he was thoughtful – which he practically never was – Jeff knew it was a first kiss, in a way.

It was the first time he kissed her the way he’d kiss her every time from now on.

When he pulled back, sliding his hand around to cup her cheek and opening his eyes to look at her, it was almost too much: Her cheeks were pink and warm, her lashes dark against her skin, and her lips were wet and parted as she drew in a shaky breath.

“Annie.” Jeff smiled softly as her eyes slowly opened. She stared back at him for a long moment, her tongue darting out to sweep along her bottom lip. He was pretty sure would’ve noticed her reaching for her clutch, her hand bracing against the back of the chair, the switch in her eyes from ‘take me home’ to ‘oh <i> _shit </i>_,’ if he hadn’t been focused on her bottom lip.

As it was, when she stood, knocking against the table, and backed away from him, Jeff was too stunned to speak. Annie shook her head and turned away, her heels clicking a heartbeat staccato against the linoleum as she ran.

Scratch that: As she fled.

***

_< i>Then came Fall, babe, and we fell hard/ Bruised our bodies, skinned our knees and our hearts</i>_

***

Rain struck the window panes with quiet pings.

The only other sound in the room was Annie’s breathing, fast and harsh, and a rustle as Jeff dropped her blouse on the floor. She was too keyed up to sit still, arching without rhythm against him as he pressed her down to the tabletop with the weight of his own body. He was too impatient to understand how clothing worked, nearly tearing the rivet on her skirt free as he pulled back to wrestle the garment from her.

His impatience was contagious: She raised her torso enough to reach back and pop the clasp on her bra, shrugging it off and falling back against the cold laminate with a huff and a shudder.

Distraction was catching, too: Skirt defeated, he left off shedding his own pants to explore the hollows of her collar bone and the smoothness of the skin stretched over her ribs.

She was determined: Her head bent back at an angle that would have been uncomfortable at any other moment, and had been since the moment his lips pressed against the skin of her breast, his scruff a shock of sensation against the warm, slightly damp patch left when he moved – but her hands still managed to find his fly.

His hands ran down her sides, curling as they raised gooseflesh at her waist, hooking into the waist of her panties, and dragging the fabric down. His lips followed his fingers, with the exception of a detour to blow a raspberry against her navel just to see her squirm when he realized she’s ticklish.

She squirmed. She also smacked his shoulder and laughed breathlessly, leaning up on her elbows and staring at him as her underwear clears her feet, and he tossed them over his shoulder, somewhere in the vicinity of his stove. (She took a moment to congratulate herself on remembering to turn off the burner when she’d made a cup of coffee and settled down to wait for him. But only a moment: Her attention was required elsewhere.)

He liked to defy expectations: He didn’t kiss the inside of her leg from ankle to thigh. And yet, he didn’t tease her: He started with a kiss to the crease where her thigh meets her pelvis. She swallowed her lingering discomfort – she wasn’t used to this, not yet – and laid back, her fingers curling into a claw on his shoulder, tightening enough to leave bruises as she lost the ability to care and her heart thudded in her chest.

She tugged on his arm, urging him to lean over her again, still restless, still impatient, still easily distracted. (<i>My, but he _does_ have nice arms </i>, she thought to herself as she ran a hand from his wrist to his bicep.) He had handled her carefully thus far. She rolled her eyes and urged him to get on with it. After all, there was a time and a place for foreplay, and they’ve had nearly two years of it now.

When he pressed into her - her legs wrapped around him and her ankles locked at the small of his back - one of his palms flattened against the table by her head, while the other cupped her ass where it hung off the edge a little. For just a moment, the pounding of their hearts slowed. She could hear other things now: The fridge whir as it cycled on and off; a clock, somewhere, ticking; and tires swished on the wet pavement of the parking lot out front. The tempo of the pulse in her temple quickened again, building to a near-constant thrumming of her blood as it coursed beneath her skin.

Minutes or hours later – he lost track – the beating of his heart slowed.

Rain struck window panes with quiet pings. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, not exactly at the same time but overlapping.

“Come to bed.”

“OK.”

_***_

_< i>You’re driving me crazy/ When are you coming home?</i>_

***

Jeff drummed his fingers against his notebook in annoyance, staring straight ahead as the rest of the study group stood and left for class.

“Jeff.” Annie’s tone was more conciliatory than pleading, which only grated further. She sighed and the rustle of fabric against fabric was the first indicator she had moved into the empty seat next to his. “C’mon, Jeff. Look at me.”

He turned his head to look at her and shot to his feet when he saw the fluttering lashes and trembling lower lip.

“No.”

“<i> _Jeff </i>_.” The Disney princess expression disappeared, and now she was exasperated. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“No!” He pointed at her. “Don’t even try to use that expression on me!” He crossed his arms and stepped away from the table. “And don’t tell me it’s not a big deal.” He lifted his chin defiantly. “It <i>is</i> a big deal.”

“It’s just a class, Jeff.”

“I don’t want to take it.” He resisted the urge to stamp his foot and watched as she stared back for a minute before standing and collecting her books. She tucked them under one arm and pushed her chair in, crossing to stand in front of him.

“That’s too bad. You agreed to abide by the group’s vote, and we all voted to take this class.”

“That’s another thing.” Jeff dropped his arms and gestured between them. “Where’s the loyalty, huh? Where’s the vote of solidarity?”

“It’s a good class.”

“Dammit, Annie, Uruguay agreed with the U.S. about everything.”

“The United States is, despite all major economic indicators, still considered a major world power.” She tilted her chin up. “It does not have to pander to every whim of smaller allied nations.”

“Annie.” Jeff sighed. “What about, y’know?” He gestures between them again. “What about the air ducts?” He frowned when she looks at him blankly. “What about your birthday? The dance?” He stepped forward and leaned down to speak quietly. “What about, y’know-” He scrunched his forehead and gave her a pointed look. “Y’know, what about the kitchen?” He watched as she simply raised a brow in response.

“That’s your entire argument?”

“Yes?”

“I see.” Annie squared her shoulders and stepped forward so they stood toe to toe. “You said you would take it if the rest of us voted to take it. We did that. We are <i> _all </i>_ going to take this class. Man up, Winger.”

“Wait a minute.” Jeff’s forehead smoothed and he scratched at the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to get formidable with me?”

“Is it working?” Annie’s imperious gaze was belied by the smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Might be.” Jeff leaned down and kissed her quickly. “Can I request that you be my partner if we have any projects?”

“I think the U.S. would agree to that, for the mutual benefit of both nations.”

“Good.” Jeff stepped around her and picked up his notebook, then turned and looped an arm around Annie’s waist as they exited the study room.

“Jeff.”

“Mmm-yeah?”

“The kitchen was fun. But you really should hold onto that one for big arguments, not this stuff.” Annie paused, thumping Jeff on the back as he made a strangled noise and coughed. “Especially if you want to do that again.”


End file.
